


Where We Are

by TheIttyBitty



Series: Company [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Companion Dean, Companions, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Mostly fluff though, Science Fiction, Scientist Castiel, Sex Worker Dean, just sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 14:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6960790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIttyBitty/pseuds/TheIttyBitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite his best efforts, Dean Winchester is feeling <i>feelings</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where We Are

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic is mostly fluff, tbh. There's not a lot of sex, and there's not a ton of space-talk either. I hope that's alright, that's just how this one turned out. There will be more space-stuff in future installments.  
> This is from Dean's POV too, btw
> 
>  
> 
>  **GLOSSARY**  
>  \- Companions are a little bit like escorts, but I'm basing them off of the [Companions from Firefly/Serenity](http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/Companion's_Guild). They are well-educated, trained, and well-respected.  
>   
> \- "Silver-Blood" is the term for someone who has magic. They can be distinguished by silver markings that appear on the inside of their arms. Usually magic manifests at puberty, but occasionally it has to be forced out (by losing one's virginity). They are often in government, or other generally high-paying jobs  
>   
> \- The Alliance. The government, based heavily off of [ The Alliance from Firefly/Serenity](http://firefly.wikia.com/wiki/Union_of_Allied_Planets).  
>   
> \- The Core. The core planets, closest to the seat of Alliance. They have the cleanest planets, best food, most money, best support from the government. But they are also closest to the eye of the government, which not everyone thinks is a good thing.  
>   
> \- The Rim. The outer planets. Most of them are colonized by small groups of pioneers. Many of the outer planets are not doing well, do to atmosphere/lack of food/lack of law/etc. But many people find it a small price to pay to be so far from the watchful eye of The Alliance.

 

Dean has just finished ushering a client out the door when the holophone on his wall pings, its trill song breaking the silence like a rock shattering glass. He sighs, rubbing his forehead. Its been a long day.

However, he turns and goes to the holophone, because this is his life. When he presses the “view” button to see who's calling, he's pleasantly surprised to see that it's Castiel, a scientist who has been seeing him regularly for a few months now. Dean gave Castiel the number to his private line a couple of weeks ago, with a reminder that he won't be able to answer if he's with another client.

He remembers Castiel looking touched, which he tries not to think about too much.

Dean moves his finger across the screen to answer, and in a moment he's greeted with Castiel's smiling face.

“Good morning, Castiel.” He says, because he knows that it will make the scientist frown and say,

“It's mid-afternoon, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “Does anyone even get up before eleven?”

“Only respectable people.”

“Well then I’m safe, aren’t I?” Dean teases.

Castiel gives him a look. Sort of frustrated, but mostly fond, that makes Dean's heart hum a little.

“You're teasing again, aren't you?” Castiel deduces, narrowing his eyes. “You've been awake.”

Dean smiles and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ve been awake.” He confirms. “But not by choice. I still think no one should have to wake up before lunch.”

“How is your day going?” Castiel asks, sounding genuine.

  
“Eh.” Dean says, waving his hand dismissively. “I'd rather not talk about it.”

On screen, Castiel frowns. That little crease between his eyebrows makes an appearance. “Not good, then?”

“Not good.”

“Maybe I should call back. If I’m bothering you-”

“No, no.” Dean says. “I was actually glad to see it was you calling. I always enjoy talking to you.”

Castiel ducks his head, and Dean can see a blush spreading up his cheeks even through the video feed. He clears his throat and palms the back of his neck before looking up again.

“Thanks. Thank you.” He says. “I enjoy talking to you too.”

Dean knows that look, dreamy-eyed and soft about the mouth, you can't be a companion for any length of time without knowing that look very, very well. Clients get it all the time. It's love. There it is, just like that. Love.

Dean's stomach clenches oddly, and he finds himself gripping the fabric of his shirtsleeve tightly.

“Was there, um- I mean, did you call for-”

“Oh, yes!” Castiel brightens. “Yes!” He holds something up in front of the screen, and it takes a moment for Dean to tell that it's an invitation. “My company is holding a charity dinner.” Castiel says, putting the invitation away. “It's very formal, very stuffy, pretty boring. But there _will_ be dancing and food. As head of my department, I have to go and try to talk people into donating. Anyway, I thought... maybe you could accompany me?”

He's wide-eyed, biting his bottom lip, expression shining with hope. How can Dean say no to that?

“I'd love to.” He says. “Tell me the date and I’ll put it in my calendar.”

“The twelfth.” Castiel says. “Two weeks from now. And I was thinking, if it sounds alright to you, maybe I could book the day after too? We could... watch movies or... go out to eat?”

Dean can't help the grin that blooms on his face. “That sounds good.”

“Yeah? Alright, well... good.” Castiel is smiling so big that Dean thinks he can probably see just about all of the man's teeth.

“So, tomorrow.” Dean changes the subject, referring to the standing appointment they have every Saturday. “I'm going to cook you something.”

“What are you going to cook?”

“ _That's_ a surprise. I just wanted to tell you so that you don't eat beforehand. I'm going to make you a whole meal and I expect you to eat all of it or I’ll be very offended.”

“Of course.” Castiel nods seriously.

“Also, I think you should wear casual clothes tomorrow.” Dean tries. “I've seen you in suits almost exclusively and, while you do look very handsome, I want to see you relaxed.” He's not sure if it will work, but he's pretty sure that Castiel is gone enough on him to agree to just about anything.

“Okay.” Castiel says, confirming Dean's suspicions.

“Great!” Dean smiles again, before remembering all of his other responsibilities. “And... I have to go now.” He frowns. “I have a lot to do today.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

 

The food is coming along well, Dean thinks. He's a great cook, actually, was pretty good even before all of the Companion training. He doesn't get to cook much anymore, in between everything else he has to do, but it's something he enjoys and he thinks Castiel will appreciate it.

The smell of the meal is wafting through his rooms by the time he hears the knock on the door, and he goes to answer it with a smile.

Castiel takes one sniff of the air when he steps inside. “Something smells good.” He observes.

“Lunch!” Says Dean. “Well, it's really more appropriate for dinner, but I didn't think you'd mind.”

“Not at all.”

Dean looks at Castiel as he moves past into the apartment, and is surprised for a moment that he actually _did_ dress casual today. He's wearing blue-jeans and a soft looking t-shirt and he's looking handsome in a completely different way than usual. It's making Dean a little nervous, actually, because now when Castiel smiles at him it doesn't seem so polite, so formal. He's just a regular guy.

Just a regular guy.

“Come eat.” Dean says, slipping his hand into Castiel's and tugging him gently along.

He doesn't have a dining room, but he has a very nice table in a corner of the kitchen with two matching chairs, to which he leads Castiel and sits him down.

“What do you want to drink?” He asks.

Castiel shrugs. “Whatever you have is fine.”

Dean shrugs longsufferingly, but gets a bottle of white wine from his refrigerator.

“Wine for lunch?” Castiel asks. His voice is disproving, but when Dean turns to look, he's smiling mischievously.

“It's never too early for wine.”

“If you say so.”

Dean pours them each a glass and sets them on the table, aware of the way Castiel's eyes trace along the lines of his body. He loves it, loves the way people look at him, but at the moment it's making him slightly anxious for some reason. He goes to the stove and takes a moment to calm himself before bringing the plates of food back over to the table.

When he places a plate in front of Castiel, the scientist blinks at it. “Is that... spaghetti?”

“It is spaghetti.” Dean confirms, taking the seat across from him.

Castiel smiles. “I don't think I’ve had spaghetti since I was about seven years old.” He picks up his fork and swirls it effortlessly through the noodles. When he takes a bite, be closes his eyes, a moan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Like it?” Deans asks.

Castiel nods. “You're an angel.”

 

Castiel insists on helping Dean with the dishes, despite the fact that Dean was absolutely just going to leave them in the sink for the foreseeable future. It's fun, though. Castiel keeps splashing him with water and squirting soap everywhere.

“You're not very good at this.” Dean tells Castiel, eying the suds that are covering Castiel's arms, shirt, and pants.

“Excuse you.” Castiel says, scooping up a handful of suds and reaching up to tip them onto Dean's head. “I'm _great_ at this.”

Dean gasps, but cups his hand and uses it to splash Castiel.

Its been a very long time since Dean was allowed to act like a child, but here he is, having some sort of water/soap fight with a client in his kitchen, and it's not even sexy. It's just fun, Castiel squirting soap straight from the bottle down the back of Dean's shirt, Dean grabbing ice from the freezer to stuff down Castiel's pants and make him shriek.

It ends with the two of them on the floor, slumped against the counter, exhausted and laughing and a mess.

“We made it so much worse.” Castiel says weakly, looking at the wrecked kitchen.

Dean shakes his head. “I don't care.”

Castiel turns his head to say something to Dean, but ends up snorting when gets a look at the man.

“What?” Dean asks. “What is it?”

“You've got-” Castiel reaches up and brushed Dean's hair down, from where it's sticking up. “There you go. You looked like a cockatoo.”

“A what?”

“Ah, a bird.” Castiel explains. “Pretty impressive head crests. They were pretty common on earth-that-was, from what I’ve read.”

Dean eyes him speculatively. “You're not one of those weirdos who's like, obsessed with earth-that-was, are you?”

“I think it's interesting.” Castiel huffs. “I'm not obsessed.”

“Sure.” Dean says.

Castiel rolls his eyes, then looks down at himself and sighs. “I think I need to change.”

Dean leans over and kisses him on his soggy cheek. “You want to take a shower with me?”

“I would like that very much, yes.”

Surprisingly, the shower isn't very sexy either. Well, Castiel is sexy, but there's no sexy _stuff_ happening. It's just a shower, and Dean watches the way Castiel's long fingers comb through his hair. He likes Castiel's hair, dark and thick and just a little bit too long, prone to sticking up every which way with no regard to gravity. He likes Castiel's thick thighs, his hips, the way his belly is a little soft.

He likes the way Castiel steps behind him and wraps his arms around Dean's middle, and Dean can feel the man's half-hard cock pressing against his ass, but it doesn't feel like a prelude to sex. It just feels like a naked hug.

Castiel kisses Dean on the neck and then grumbles. “You taste like soap.”

“Well, whose fault is that?” Dean laughs.

He can feel Castiel pouting into his shoulder, and he laughs harder.

They don't put clothes on after, they just dry off and curl up together on the couch in the living room. They're too tired and full to have sex, although Castiel does let his hands roam all over Dean's freshly-clean body. It's nice.

Castiel sticks his face into the crook of Dean's neck, lets one hand drift down to fondle Dean's soft cock, and that's the way they stay.

 

-o-

 

Ares Icholades Technologies holds one of the biggest annual charity dinners on the entire _planet_. Dean is very aware of them, of the things they've done both good and bad. There have been plenty of both.

Getting ready for this, he's not worried. He knows his role, knows how to dress, how to act.

He gets some of the other Companions to come and help him get ready, help him pick out the perfect outfit and put on makeup so that not a single flaw is visible on his face.

He ends up wearing a dark, slim-cut suit, because no matter how much he hates them, this night isn't about him. He wears an emerald green tie to bring out his eyes, and he looks good.

Castiel picks him up in an expensive car, and he even gets out to open the door for Dean.

His eyes go wide when he gets a look at the Companion.

“You look gorgeous.” He says, breathlessly.

“You sound surprised.” Dean answers, sliding into the car.

Castiel scoots in behind him, reaching up to tap the partition separating the front of the car from the back. “We're ready.” He tells the driver.

He sits back then, and looks at Dean. “Not surprised.” He clarifies. “You always look gorgeous. I just thought you should know.”

“Well, thank you.” Dean says happily. “You don't look half bad yourself.”

He doesn't. His suit is a little rumpled, his hair slightly disheveled, but it looks good on him. He's cute. And anyway, he doesn't need to look perfect. He's a scientist, people expect them to look a little frazzled.

The dinner is held in a huge chrome building that's so big Dean gets a little dizzy looking up at the ceiling. They walk around talking to people for a while, so that Castiel can schmooze and try to get people to invest in his projects.

“Mr. Wilkes,” Castiel greets a new man, with a young woman on his arm. “Nice to see you. This is Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Alkin Wilkes, he's-”

“Owner of Alter International,” Dean says, taking the man's offered hand. “I know. You engineered The Pilgrim.”

“I did!” The man says cheerfully. “You know of it?”

“Sir, your invention allowed thousands of colonists to survive on new worlds that were previously uninhabitable. I can't imagine anyone not knowing about that.”

Mr. Wilkes laughs. “You've got a smart one here, Collins.” He says to Castiel.

Dean turns and finds Castiel beaming at him, looking like someone just handed a million dollars. He slips his arm around Dean's waist and then, right there in front of everyone, he leans forward and kisses Dean gently on the mouth.

Despite himself, Dean's stomach flips, and can feel heat flooding his face. It's just so- so fucking _sweet_ , and it's wonderful and exhilarating and it's freaking him the fuck out.

He manages to school his expression before he says, “Please excuse me for a moment.” Smiles pleasantly, and slips away. Once he's out of eyesight though, he practically runs. Eventually, he makes it to a small side room, with lots of soft chairs and servers handing out champagne. It's mostly for elderly and disabled people to rest, but there are plenty of others too.

Dean takes a glass of champagne and sits down in an armchair a distance away from everyone else to sort through his thoughts. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, closes his eyes for a moment. Feelings are normal, but he doesn't let himself get attached to clients for many, many reasons. The main reason being, it's never permanent. Eventually, they all get tired of him, run out of money, move away, something. So he doesn't get attached. Usually it's not difficult, Dean is a professional and he has no problems separating sex from his feelings. This though, laughing together, laying on the couch and watching movies and washing dishes together, chaste kisses and admiring looks, the domesticity of it has him all twisted up. There are many clients who want nothing more than company, but he's never had so much fun with one before.

He swallows all his champagne in two drinks, and is about to start looking for another glass, when someone sits down in the chair next to his.

“Are you okay?” Says a voice, and Dean turns to see a red-haired girl looking at him with a worried expression. “You look a little pale.”

“Oh, ah, yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just... needed to sit for a minute.”

The girl nods seriously. “You want some water?”

“I was thinking of getting more champagne, actually.”

The girl stands, grabs a glass from a passing server, and hands it down to Dean.

“Thanks.” He says, a little warily.

“I saw you with Castiel.” She says, by way of explaining herself. “He's a friend of mine. I'm Charlie.”

“Dean.”

“Oh.” She says. “ _Oh_. You're _Dean_.”

“Um, yes.” Says Dean, all polite manners slipping away, replaced by confusing and sudden exhaustion.

The girl looks him over critically, then nods her head once, approving. “He can see why he likes you, aesthetically at least.” She muses.

“Hmm.” She says.

That's as far as they get, because it's then that Castiel is walking into the room, looking around curiously. His eyes set on Dean and his face lights up.

“Dean!” He says, approaching, “Are you alright? You left in a hurry.”

“I'm okay.” Dean assures him, sipping on his champagne. “Just, uh, felt a little claustrophobic, I guess, with all those people around.” He lies.

Castiel tips his head to the right a little, looking skeptical for a moment. If he has doubts about the statement, though, he doesn't voice them. He just kneels on the carpet next to Dean's chair in order to look at him head on, as if he isn't a rich scientist.

“Would you like to leave?” He asks. “We can leave, if you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, no.” Dean waves him off, “I'm alright. Just needed to sit for a minute.”

Castiel smiles at him and puts a hand on Dean's knee. “Can I get you anything?”

Dean shakes his head and smiles back, pushing himself to his feet. “I feel alright now.”

He helps Castiel to his feet and gives him a little kiss on the cheek.

They talk to Charlie for a bit before she gets distracted by another scientist named Gilda who she's obviously smitten with.

They talk to more rich people after that, and Dean keeps it together. He's charming and witty, and Castiel gives him more adoring looks.

They dance, too, slowly and holding each other close. Castiel's arms are around Dean's middle, and Dean's are resting on Castiel's hips, his chin on Castiel's shoulder.

By the end of the night, Dean is a little tipsy, and by the way the man is walking, he'd say that Castiel is too. They walk back to the car holding hands, and Castiel asks him,

“Would you like to back to the Institute? Or... you could come back to my apartment with me.”

Dean nods. “Lets go to your apartment, I’ve never been there.”

They climb into the car, where the driver has been waiting this whole time, reading a book. He starts the car and Castiel slides over into Dean's space and winds an arm around him.

“Hi there.” Dean says.

“Hi.” Says Castiel, placing a kiss behind Dean's ear.

Dean laughs and turns his head to dislodge Castiel. “I don't think your driver would be very happy about us necking in his back seat.”

“He doesn't mind.” Castiel says, kissing Dean's adam's apple.

“I'd really rather you didn't, sir.” Comes a voice from the front of the car.

Castiel sighs, but lets his head drop to Dean's shoulder. “Alright.” He says, because he's such a sweetheart. He's a little quiet on the ride to his apartment, but not worryingly so.

Castiel's apartment building is enormous, more stories than Dean can count, and classy as hell. The driver drops them off a the front of the building, and there's a doorman and everything. There's an elevator attendant too, which is a little disappointing because Dean kind of wanted to make out with Castiel in the elevator, but it's okay.

They finally get up to Castiel's apartment on the twenty-first floor, and he gets shy.

“It's kind of a mess.” He admits. “I'm not exactly tidy.”

“That's okay.” Dean says, honestly. “It's not a big deal.” He's seen a lot of weird shit, honestly.

Castiel opens the door and ushers him inside, and Dean finds himself marveling at the size of the place. His rooms at the institute are big, but this is enormous. It doesn't seem to have much furniture at all, but what it does have is piled high with books and papers. Pages of schematics and what looks like gibberish are strewn about the place.

Otherwise, though, it's fairly clean. It has a huge kitchen and a big, open living room. The bedroom is most furnished, with a huge four-poster bed, paintings all over the walls, and just about the biggest dresser Dean has ever seen.

As soon as they enter the bedroom Castiel starts stripping his clothes off, and Dean laughs.

“Eager?” He asks.

Castiel blinks at him, then smiles. “I was going to take a bath.” He says. “Will you join me?”

“Alright.” Dean agrees, getting to work on his own suit.

The bathroom, when they get to it, is palatial. It's huge, painted white, with two sinks, a huge shower, and a bathtub that might comfortably fit a dozen people.

“I'm starting to think you might have more money than I originally thought.” He admits.

Castiel huffs a laugh and turns on the water to start filling the bath. “It's pretty nice, right?”

“It's beautiful.” Dean tells him. “A little empty though.”

“I don't have much time to shop for furniture nowadays.” Castiel shrugs, rolling the muscles in his back.

“Maybe we could go one Saturday, instead of staying in.”

Castiel pouts. “Saturdays are my relaxing days though.” He objects.

“You don't find shopping relaxing.”

“Not even a little.”

“We'll get you some furniture eventually.”

Castiel smiles at him, reaching down to test the water and, finding it to his liking, sliding in. He motions for Dean to come too, and he does. He slips down into the tub next to Castiel, and finds the tension from the day leaving his body before he even realizes.

“Here,” Castiel grasps Dean's hips and turns him, so that he's facing away, then slides his hands up Dean's sides to his shoulders. “Just relax.”

He rubs gently at Dean's shoulders, inexpert, but it still feels very nice. Dean lets his head drop forward as Castiel's thumbs press into the muscles of his back.

“Thank you.” He says.

Castiel presses a kiss to his shoulder. “Thank _you_ for coming out with me tonight.” He counters.

“Really though,” Dean presses on. “This is nice.”

“You deserve it.” Castiel tells him.

Dean doesn't answer, because all those _feelings_ from before are back, and he's trying to keep them locked up. So, to keep Castiel from saying anymore things that will make him feel feelings, Dean turns, presses Castiel back into the wall of the tub, and climbs into his lap.

Castiel makes a surprised sound, which turns into a pleased sound when Dean pushes forward and kisses him deep and slow. He licks into Castiel's mouth, tasting him, feeling him, he nips at Castiel's lips. Hands are sliding up his legs, squeezing his ass, and he kisses Castiel's neck as he's spread open.

He presses his hips forward, so that his cock and Castiel's are trapped together between their stomachs, and he rolls his hips to hear the wonderful sounds that Castiel makes.

Dean practically mewls when Castiel starts playing with his hole, pressing his finger against it, tracing it, massaging the skin just around it. He's entranced by the feeling of warm water against his back, Castiel's lips against his throat, and there's an electric tingle at Castiel's fingertips. He's using magic to stimulate Dean's asshole. How is this Deaan's life?

When Castiel starts to press in, though, Dean has to stop him.

“Water does _not_ work as lube, sweetheart.” He says.

“Oh, sorry.” Castiel looks sheepish.

“'s okay.” Dean says, kissing him on the lips. “We can do other things.”

He slips his hand down between them to take them both in hand and stroke slowly.

They stay this way for a while, kissing and stroking lazily. Nothing is hurried, nothing is urgent, they stay in the tub until their skin starts to prune.

When they finally get out their movements are slow and lazy, and they collapse on the bed in a heap. Dean kisses Castiel again and again and he tries to say everything with those kisses that he's much, much too scared to say with words.

This time, when Castiel presses his fingers into Dean, he has lubricant, and Dean hums happily with three of the man's digits in his ass. When Castiel finally takes his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, Dean looks him in the and hopes to heaven that whatever this is between them might stay. He wants it. He wants it so bad.

He rolls his hips and rides Castiel so hard that they shake the bed, until Castiel comes in Dean's ass, and Dean comes all over Castiel's stomach. Castiel, because he's an absolute angel, gets up to get the wash cloth to clean them up, and takes pains to clean Dean's oversensitive member very carefully. They fall asleep wrapped in warm blankets, with Castiel spooned up behind Dean, pressing sweet kisses to his shoulders.

 

 

Dean opens his eyes and he knows that something is wrong. It's still dark out, and when he picks out the bright numbers on Castiel's bedside clock he finds it only a few hours after they fell asleep.

So why is he awake? Something woke him.

He keeps perfectly still, but lets his eyes roam the room until he spots something out of the ordinary. There's a chair in the corner of the room, and while it was empty before, there's a shadow in it now. A big one. Big enough to be a person, he realizes, heart picking up its pace.

He can fight some, he knows some fencing and boxing, but he's prone. He laying down with blankets over-top of him and a man's arm around his waist. By the time he gets himself out of bed, the intruder might have done him in ten times over. So what can he do, here? What's the answer?

He has no idea, so eventually he just jabs Castiel with his elbow. The man snorts and mumbles something, but doesn’t wake. The shadow in the corner doesn't move.

Dean jabs Castiel again, and this time he sits up a little.

“Wha-? 's goin on?” He slurs sleepily.

“There's someone here.” Dean whispers, although his voice carries through the quiet room, and he's sure the shadow heard him.

Behind him, Castiel goes still, and Dean can feel him looking around the room. He can tell when Castiel sees the shadow, because his hand tightens into a fist on Dean's stomach.

“Who's there?” He says into the darkness.

The shadow stands and stalks forward. Dean and Castiel are both frozen, terrified and unable to move, even when the shadow comes closer and closer, just to the edge of Castiel's bed.

It reaches out, and turns on the lamp that sits on the side-table.

Dean blinks at the light, unable to process more than long red hair.

Behind him, Castiel lets out a fast breath. “What the- Anna?” He says.

“It's been a while.” She says.

“Years.” Castiel says breathlessly. “It's been years.”

“Yeah, well, i've been around.” She reaches out to trace the edge of the end-table. “Can we talk?”

“I guess we'd better.” Says Castiel.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are the sun and water that keep me alive and growing, and if you leave any I will love you forever!
> 
> My tumblr is [here](https://deanlightful.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Love you guys, thanks for reading!  
> Hugs,  
> \- Grace


End file.
